


you made your mark on me

by quakeriders



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, F/M, Mating Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 08:04:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18361946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quakeriders/pseuds/quakeriders
Summary: I breathed in through my nose, trying to calm my wildly beating heart. I kept my eyes open, afraid that I would see his violet ones once I let them fall shut again. I tried to fall back into sleep, tried to forget what I had whispered against his lips in my dream.Mine.or: in which the mating bond finally snaps into place for Feyre





	you made your mark on me

**Author's Note:**

> idk this has been sitting in my fic folder for a while.. also first person pov? how?  
> title insp: dress - taylor swift (my official feysand anthem.. is this the third fic with a title from this song now??????)  
> this is set some time after the visit to the summer court and before their visit to the court of nightmares..

I awoke from the dream, surprised to find my bed empty. The sheets around me were warm but felt oddly cold. Something in my chest ached and I felt empty as I tried to slowly blink away the effects of the dream.

Still, as I lay there looking up at the ceiling, I could feel the phantom touch of his calloused fingers. Still, as I tried to slow my breathing, I could feel his warm breath on my neck. Still, as my fingers curled around the sheets, I could feel his scent filling my nose.

I breathed in through my nose, trying to calm my wildly beating heart. I kept my eyes open, afraid that I would see his violet ones once I let them fall shut again. I tried to fall back into sleep, tried to forget what I had whispered against his lips in my dream.

_Mine._

I had said it again and again. As our bodies tangled beneath the sheets. As our lips met. As his strong body covered my own.

_Mine. Mine. Mine._

It had been a chant. A prayer; released from deep within me.

I couldn’t stand the pain in my chest. I didn’t understand what caused the ache. So I sat up, unable to stay still any longer.

I slipped out of the sheets, my feet hitting the cold floor. And before I could think about it, I left my bedroom. The hallway was dark and silent. I couldn’t hear sounds from anywhere. It was the dead of the night and neither Mor, nor Nuala or Cerridwen where anywhere.

Neither was.. he.

I couldn’t think his name. Couldn’t let my mind drift to him. But even thinking about not thinking of him, made that thing inside me clench tighter around my heart. I was panting again, gasping for air and my fingers curled into fists, nails digging into my palm.

I turned and walked towards the stairs. I couldn’t even stand being this close to his bedroom. But with every step I took, something inside me seemed to stretch, to pull. And I yearned for.. something.

I almost tripped as I made my way down the stairs.

Downstairs, I stood in the foyer, breathing, gasping, fighting.

I didn’t understand what was happening. Didn’t understand this- this madness that had come over me. And throughout it all, that thing inside my chest was roaring at me to go back upstairs, to enter his room, to touch him, to taste him-

_No._

I bit on my lip and planted my feet. No, I couldn’t do any of that.

I looked at the front door but my eyes didn’t see the sight before me. All I could see were those remarkable eyes.

I swallowed. Once. Twice. A scream was building inside me and my skin was feeling uncomfortably tight against my bones. I looked down at my hands, only to find them shaking and blood dripping from where my nails had pierced the skin of my palms.

Then, my whole being focussed on a sound coming from behind me.

Footsteps.

So silent that if it had been anyone else, I would have missed them.

But it was _him_. And warning bells were sounding in my mind, alerting my whole being that he was close. The awareness wrapped around me like a cloak, settling over my shoulders. And I could feel every muscle in my body tensing.

"Feyre?"

I almost groaned at the sound of my name on his lips.

"Don’t." Even speaking that single word hurt. My body ached as I restrained myself.

"What’s wrong?"

I felt his heat then. His presence behind me - the scent, the warmth, the power. And I couldn’t stop the sound that escaped from my throat. I had closed my eyes and I was inhaling deeply. Shivers were running up and down my spine, my arms, my neck.

I felt like I was burning from the inside out.

I hadn’t realised that he had walked around me, too wrapped up in drowning my senses with his presence. But when I felt a slight gush of air, my eyes snapped open.

Concern was written all over his face, eyes dark, lips pulled tight. But his hand was raised, almost brushing against my cheek.

"Don’t." I said again and I could feel his confusion. If he touched me, I thought I might explode. "Please, don’t."

My hands were trembling worse than before, and only when his eyes flicked down my body, did I realise that it wasn’t just my hands. My whole body was shivering.

I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t fight this need much longer. Couldn’t fight— couldn’t.. When his eyes met mine again, I whimpered.

Something like understanding flashed through his eyes. And that hand of his lowered. "It’s okay, Feyre."

I was shaking my head, trying to take a step back. To get some air that wasn’t filled with his scent. I thought I might go crazy if I stayed there; seeing him, feeling him, scenting him and _not_ touching him.

"It’s okay." Rhys breathed and reached for my hand. "Don’t fight it. It will only get worse."

And at the first touch of our fingers, I moved. Suddenly, my body was pressed flush against his, my soul singing at the contact.

"Rhys." I gasped, fingers digging into his flesh as I dragged them over every bit of exposed skin. "Rhys, please. I need-"

I didn’t know what I was asking him for. I didn’t know what I was feeling. All I knew was that touching him kept me sane. I ran my hands up his arms, down his chest, nails digging into the flesh.

"It’s okay, Feyre." Rhys muttered, watching me as I touched him. "I’m right here."

And then my lips were on his chest - tasting, kissing, biting. I needed more, more, _more_.

My blood was boiling but this time it was different. Not because I was holding back, but because it wasn’t enough. And some wild part of me thought nothing could ever be enough.

I didn’t know when I had dropped to my knees; when my hands had dipped beneath his pants. Didn’t know when I had taken hold of his cock. But as my lips closed around him, I groaned at the taste of him.

Sucking, licking, dragging my teeth over his hot flesh, I felt heat pounding through my veins. His hands were curled into tight fists beside me and I realised that he hadn’t touched me beyond that first contact.

And as I took him as deep as I could, I took one of his hands into mine and curled my fingers around his. Holding onto him as if I would slip through the floor and fall forever if I didn’t keep holding on.

"Feyre." His voice was low, barely a croaked plea and I angled my head to look up at him. My mouth still on him, our eyes met and the way he looked at me, made that ache in my chest ease.

"Let me touch you." He gasped and couldn’t, wouldn’t release him, so I gave him a small nod. Immediately, his hands were on my shoulders, sliding down to my chest, my breast, palming them, kneading them with deft, sure movements.

I groaned and took him deeper.

_Mine. Mine. Mine._

But then he was leaning down, pants snapping back up, kneeling before me and suddenly I was left empty and gasping. We were face to face, knee to knee and my hands were back on his chest, roaming.

And when our eyes met, something inside of me clicked into place.

Like I was a puzzle and our gazes meeting had shifted the last piece into place.

I gasped, my hands stilling against his skin; my nails digging in deeper.

"You." I whispered, unable to look away from him.

And I understood. Understood that primal chant in my veins.

_Mine._

He was mine.

My mate.

I stopped breathing. Stopped thinking. Stopped being.

The only thing I knew for certain that he was mine.

Rhysand was mine.

And he - he was just looking at me. Something like awe on his face. The stars were back in his eyes and I knew that I could loose myself in them. I wanted to.

Every inch of skin that was not touching him ached.

My body, my soul ached for him.

"You’re my mate." I whispered, so quietly that I could barely hear the words myself. I couldn’t believe it; couldn’t wrap my mind around it.

His lips parted and I could feel his heart pounding beneath my fingers. Pounding so hard, that I thought it might break through his ribcage and fall right into my palm. As if he too felt like I did. As if he too yearned for me. Ached for me.

"Yes." He replied finally.

"How?"

He smiled. A soft, tentative thing. Like he was afraid that any movement on his part would scare me away. "Only the cauldron knows."

I swallowed. Swallowed the questions, the emotions, the urges and slowly let go of him.

His face fell as my fingers lifted off his skin. And I felt like my heart was breaking in two. But I couldn’t do this when I was touching him.

"What does it mean?" I avoided looking at him.

"I doesn’t have to mean anything." Rhys said after a few heartbeats. "If you don’t want it- me. Then we can ignore it and simply go on as we are."

I was already shaking my head. "What about you?"

"Me?" He asked and I could hear the frown in his voice.

"Do you want it? Me?" I asked and didn’t know if my heart could bear his answer. "As your mate, I mean."

His fingers gently curled around my chin, lifting my head so that our eyes met again. The intensity in his eyes sent a fire down my spine.

"Yes." He said, fiercely. "I want you. As my mate. As my friend. As my lover. As anything you’re willing to be."

I shivered. And the thing inside me rose in answer to his words, his touch, his presence. "I want you, Rhys. I need you. You’re mine."

And then he was kissing me. Or I was kissing him.

By the way he reacted a heartbeat too late, I knew that I was the one to initiate it, but when his hands wrapped around me and pulled our bodies flush together, I knew that he craved me like I craved him.

And I let that roaring beast inside me take over.

_Mine. Mine. Mine._

Only when Rhys said "Yes, I’m yours" did I realise that I was chanting the words against his lips. "And you’re mine."

The claim soothed that beast inside me. And I knew that this; this was where I was supposed to be. In his arms.

Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, feedback is appreciated  
> tumblr: @quakeriders, lets just scream about feysand, ok?


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